


home for the holidays (unfortunately)

by Avelys



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Cousin Incest, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Smut, they all need jesus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelys/pseuds/Avelys
Summary: Family reunions with side servings of smut, drama, and incest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> not my usual couple, but i love their dynamic

It was difficult to imagine a life before Netflix, before high-speed internet, before his precious 12-step skincare routine.

Logically, Luhan knew he had to have been able to survive without these necessities in the past. After all, he had lived sixteen of his twenty-six years in a provincial backwoods town in the countryside. One of his most vivid memories was sitting in the outhouse with his pants pooled around his ankles, watching apprehensively as a humongous spider lowered itself centimeter by centimeter on a webby rope.

Anyway.

It was a life he had left behind him. San Francisco had been his home for close to an entire decade now, and he had no desire to return to (or even recall) whatever sorry state of existence had passed for life way back then. He was quite content to live in the city for the rest of his natural life, and if he never set foot in his hometown again, it would be a blessing.

His mother did not feel the same way, unfortunately. “No buts, Luhan,” she said sternly, her steely tone brooking no argument. When she spoke again, her voice had softened, and was dripping with fond nostalgia. “You’re going to come home for Christmas and that’s final. It’s been so long since I’ve seen your cute little face.”

Groaning in frustration, Luhan banged his forehead on his tiled countertop. His father he could handle: the old man had always been a pushover that he could steamroll with ease. But his mother was a different matter entirely: armed with an in-depth knowledge of guilt-tripping that was probably (definitely) intrinsic to her status as a mother, she knew exactly what words and which tone would have her son collapsing like a house of cards.

“If you want to see me, I can send you plane tickets,” he coaxed. It was what he’d been doing for the past few years, and was a system that had always satisfied his parents in the past.

When his mother spoke again, her voice was even firmer, if such a thing were possible. “You know we can’t do that, Luhan. We’re having a family reunion this year. The Oh’s have come all the way from Korea.”

“I can’t go; I have to work,” he protested half-heartedly. The battle was over, Luhan knew, but he was going to fight it to the death anyway. There was a slim chance that his mother would slip up, and he would be able to escape the ignominious fate.

Just thinking about the possibility of a reunion had him shuddering. He hadn’t even bought a ticket yet, but his cheeks were already smarting from all the pinching he knew they would receive. With a sigh, he raised one hand to the side of his face to rub it soothingly.

“You’ve been working nonstop for years,” his mother replied dismissively. “You can afford to spend a couple of vacation days. Besides,” she added, sounding far too sly for Luhan’s liking. “You _have_ to come back. Do you remember cute, little Sehun? He was so excited at the prospect of meeting you again after all these years.”

Luhan winced. The name recalled memories of a reedy child with a churlish face, constantly yippering _”Hyung!”_ into his ear. He had sacrificed an entire summer vacation to babysit the little cretin, and had no fond memories whatsoever. The little monster had had a poorly disguised crush on Luhan, constantly following him around like an unwanted cell phone accessory.

“All the more reason not to go,” he grumbled uncharitably.  
His mother gasped, no doubt appalled at her son’s abominable manners. “I didn’t raise my son this way,” she spoke disappointedly, and Luhan could pick out the words of a familiar lecture.

“Alright, alright,” Luhan cut in. The war was well and truly over at this point, and he had absolutely no desire to listen to this spiel again. “I’ll go.” Mentally, he catalogued how many outfits he could fit in his valise and still have room for his skincare products. Just to be sure, he pulled up the calculator app on his computer. It was no laughing matter; he was sure that if he ran out of clothes, his mother would force him into the horrific plaid and overalls of his shameful teenage years.

“Great!” his mother chirped, her attitude making a 180 degree turn. “I’ll tell your father to prepare your old room. You’ll be bunking with your cousin, is that alright with you dear?”

“Which cousin?” he asked absentmindedly. Chanyeol was preferable, since they still kept in touch, but he had a very large family with many cousins, and he wouldn’t put it past his mother to choose one that he would be supremely uncomfortable with. Luhan shuddered at the thought of rooming with the wide-eyed Kyungsoo, who had never quite forgiven him for accidentally (on purpose) ruining his limited edition Hot Wheels racing set (when they were twelve. Get over it, Kyungsoo.)

“Sehun. Is that all right with you, honey?”

The words brought a momentary frown to Luhan’s face, but he shrugged it off. He had expected to room with someone closer in age to himself, but Sehun was hardly the worst of possibilities. “It’s fine, I guess,” he answered, fishing his suitcase out from under his bed and tossing it onto the hardwood floor. He frowned again- it was much smaller than he remembered, throwing his calculations for a loop.

“Perfect,” his mom declared, sounding positively thrilled. “Make sure you call me when you take off, alright? I want to be there to pick you up when you arrive.”

“Sure thing,” he replied distractedly, scratching his chin while staring sadly at the valise.

“Love you honey!”

“Love you too, mom.”

When the click sounded, signaling that his mother had hung up, Luhan barely noticed. He continued to stare mournfully at the suitcase, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fit all his skincare products and clothes into such a tiny thing.

With a groan, Luhan stood, dusting off his pants. Reaching to his bedside table, he snatched up his car keys. He was going to need to buy a bigger suitcase.

-

It must have been a funny sight, Luhan concluded, but his exhaustion was such that he was ultimately beyond caring. Standing there, in the middle of the airport and desperately trying to drag his oversized suitcase across the horribly uneven carpeting, he drew the stares and the judgement of strangers innumerable. It was a rather humiliating situation, but he could not find the energy within him to feel even the tiniest bit embarrassed.

After a particularly hard tug, Luhan was sent sprawling backwards, his entire body scuffing against the carpet as he flew. After a short struggle, he raised his eyes to check on the state of his suitcase. When he noticed that it had not budged, he gave a spectacularly weary moan before allowing himself to collapse back onto the floor, one hand dropping limply onto his forhead.

“That was dramatic,” a slightly accented voice remarked.

Luhan opened an eye, and looming above him was a tall, pasty person that looked vaguely familiar. He squinted, trying to place the stoic face, before giving up with a shrug. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he huffed, before shifting his gaze between his luggage, the stranger, and back.

“I wouldn’t have had to wrangle with it unassisted if Chanyeol had been here to pick me up like he promised,” he grumbled petulantly. When he met up with the family, cousin Chanyeol was going to get a _very loud_ piece of his mind.

The stranger crouched down, familiar face twisted into a wry grin. Somehow, the face managed to remain expressionless despite the smile. “Something came up, so I got sent instead,” he explained.

Luhan squinted at him, trying to place him. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers. “You’re Chanyeol’s boyfriend, Baekhyun,” he guessed.

“…. No.”

“No, definitely not,” Luhan agreed, sinking back disappointedly. “You’re too tall.” All he remembered about Baekhyun was that he was pointy and short. While the man before him was definitely pointy enough, he was not short in the least. He inspected the stranger once more with a quizzical eye. “I’m sure I know you from somewhere,” he muttered, furrowing his brow.

“One of your cousins,” the stranger prompted.

“I have many cousins,” Luhan said absentmindedly, still lost in thought. For another minute, he examined the other man in silence, evaluating his features with a critical eye. The long face… the squinty stare… there was absolutely no way. It couldn’t be.

“… cousin Sehun?”

The stranger nodded emphatically, an action that looked funny because of his intense face. “Bingo.”

Luhan drew himself up into a sitting position, openly gaping at his cousin. “No way,” he said, utterly awed by the transformation. “I haven’t seen you since you were a fetus!” He slapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder, offering a shit-eating grin. “Puberty was good to you, Sehunnie.”

“Hyung…” Sehun whined, balking at the reappearance of the undignified childhood nickname. Nevertheless, he colored to the tips of his ears, so Luhan knew he wasn’t too upset.

Beaming, Luhan pushed himself to his feet. He noticed that his cousin now stood a little taller than him. Sehun had always been tall for his age, but the last time they had met, he had only been beginning his growth spurt. Apparently that was over and done with now, and many others beside.

Turning back to his suitcase, he gave the handle a half-hearted tug. “You can help me with this, right?” he asked skeptically. Though Sehun had grown into his awkward features and into a decent height, he was still a little on the noodly side, and Luhan doubted that those bean sprout limbs were capable of lifting anything of meaningful weight.

His cousin nodded furiously, hastily making his way over. Luhan watched disbelievingly as the younger man grabbed onto the handle and tugged the suitcase with ease. 

He whistled. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Sehun’s ears flushed even darker, but he remained silent. 

The comfortable silence lasted all the way to the car. Immediately, Luhan recognized his mother’s ugly little mini cooper.

“Is everything going to fit?” he wondered worriedly. The car was exceedingly small, and some part of him was already claustrophobic and clawing for freedom. The suitcase might fit if they lowered a few seats, but he had several duffel bags that were far less likely to.

Sehun frowned. “It should,” he muttered. He popped the trunk open and lowered the back seats, before lifting up the suitcase with a grunt and maneuvering it so that it would fit into the trunk. While he managed to get it through the opening, the sheer size of the suitcase made it near impossible to lay it flat.

Seeing his cousin struggle to force the suitcase into the trunk, and feeling guilty about it (after all, he _had_ over-packed...) he dropped his duffel bags and rolled up his sleeves, before adding his weight as well, in an attempt to contribute to the effort toward forcing it flat.

Though the younger man recovered admirably afterward, Luhan still could tell that he stiffened at the contact.

Looking up, he raised one eyebrow. “What was that?” he queried.

“Nothing.” Sehun said quickly, a little too quickly to be believable.

Luhan laughed. “Don’t tell me you still have a crush on me,” he teased.

Immediately, Sehun looked up in alarm. “You knew?” he hissed, his voice so scandalized that Luhan couldn’t help but giggle again.

“Of course I knew,” he scoffed. “You kept following me around. It was so damn transparent that even our parents knew. They kept teasing me about it.”

Sehun looked utterly dumbfounded- though his features remained in a stoic arrangement, his eyes tellingly looked as if his world had been shaken to the core. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then just left it slackened and open.

Taking pity on the younger man, Luhan turned his attention back to the situation at hand. Tilting his head sideways, he examined the suitcase closely, looking for the perfect angle. One well-placed kick later, the positioning of the suitcase was satisfactory.

“That’s going to be a pain to get out later,” he remarked.

“That’s what Chanyeol is for,” Sehun responded, and Luhan nodded in agreement.

-

“Oh Hannie, you’ve grown so much!”

Groaning, Luhan peeled his mother’s hands off his cheeks exasperatedly. “I haven’t grown an inch since you last saw me, mom.”

Ignoring his interjection, his mother held him at arm’s length to get a better look at him. “Look at my boy,” she gushed. “So handsome and so well-dressed! Has the city been treating you well, honey?” Not waiting for a response, she steered him into the living room. “Everybody, Luhan’s here!” she gleefully called, her voice every bit as loud as he had remembered.

He glanced behind him helplessly, sending Sehun a pleading look. The latter simply shrugged and smiled, and Luhan knew he was doomed.

His fears were not unfounded. Various aunts, uncles, and cousins were present. He felt like a toy being paraded around: it was a feeling that was both discomfiting and troubling.

“Hey, look who’s finally here!”

He was in the middle of shaking the hand of a distant relative (whose name he could not, for the life of him, remember;) when a large arm came swinging around him, pulling Luhan into a crushing hug. It was, of course, cousin Chanyeol, as gigantic and creepy as ever. He returned the embrace half-heartedly, before noticing a pointy and short young man standing just slightly out of the way. _That_ was probably Baekhyun, he guessed.

“And you haven’t met Baekkie yet, have you?” Chanyeol asked not a moment later, confirming his suspicions. Grabbing his boyfriend by the hand, he pulled him closer, so that he and Luhan were face to face. “This is my boyfriend, Baekhyun,” he declared proudly, earning him a pinch on the cheek and an affectionate smile.

Studying the two of them together, Luhan decided that they seemed good for one another. Chanyeol needed someone who would be able to put up with his less-than-mature ways, and Baekhyun seemed to take his antics all in stride. Still- it wouldn’t hurt to tease his cousin a little.

“Punching above your weight class there, cuz?” He asked wryly, elbowing the tall man mercilessly. Chanyeol pouted, but soon thereafter melted into a cheerful smile.

“I know I am,” he replied happily, throwing an arm over Baekhyun’s shoulder.

Smiling fondly, Luhan turned, ready to head back to the car to retrieve his belongings. But there stood Sehun, huffing and puffing and loaded with duffel bags, stumbling through the door.

Luhan rushed up to the younger man to relieve him of his burdens. “You didn’t have to carry them in!” he exclaimed, feeling guilty. He had overpacked, and he knew it. “I was going to go back and get them, I swear!”

“No biggie,” Sehun wheezed, more air than sound. With the last of the bags off his person, he hunched over with his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

His mother came up to the group, knocking on the walls to get their attention. “Boys,” she said. “Your mothers and I are going to go grocery shopping, to get things ready for the celebration on Monday. Why don’t you guys get Luhan settled in while we’re gone?”

“Sounds good Mrs. Lu,” Baekhyun said stiffly and politely. It was the first thing Luhan had heard him say, and he absentmindedly wondered if the shorter boy was more on the quiet side.

“Have fun, all right kids? And Chanyeol, don’t forget, you have to go and get the tree from the attic.” With those words, she left, ostensibly off to reunite with her sisters to prepare for their grocery excursion.

Easily picking up the many bags that Sehun and Luhan had both been struggling with (and ignoring the glares he earned from both of them,) Chanyeol nodded toward the stairs. “You’re going to be upstairs,” he remarked cheerfully. “You’re rooming with Sehun, but I’m sure your mom already told you that. Come on, fellas. Let’s go.”

With that he was cheerfully making his way up the steps. Baekhyun looked at them hesitantly, before following his boyfriend up.

“He wasn’t even winded,” Sehun complained. “Unfair.”

Shaking his head, Luhan reached over and squished Sehun’s cheeks affectionately. It was times like this that reminded him that his cousin, though taller and considerably more handsome than before, was still practically a fetus. “Maybe if you did weight training then your noodly arms would be able to lift more things,” he tsked. 

The two of them walked up the stairs together, Luhan one step behind Sehun. He suspected he knew which room they were in, of course, but he’d rather let his baby cousin lead the way than embarrass himself by wandering off into someone else’s room.

It turned out his suspicions were pretty much correct: they were indeed in his old room. Though he had never really missed the life he had lead before, the nostalgia of returning to the home of his childhood brought an involuntary smile to his face.

“Where should I set your bags?” Chanyeol wanted to know.

Luhan patted him on the shoulder. “You can carry them a bit longer,” he replied sweetly.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Sehun plopping himself down on one of the beds. “You’re in the other one, hyung,” the noodly boy informed him, pointing the way with a finger.

He nodded to show his understanding, but did not make his way over to the bed; instead, he walked over to the curtained windows, throwing them open and sticking his head out and peered around. Immediately, he felt something frilly wrap itself around his face. There was a sinking feeling somewhere within him, exacerbated by the laughs the mishaps elicited from both his cousins, and even Baekhyun.

He retreated with a groan. “Mother is still letting Mrs. Kim hang her laundries over our house?” he asked dully.

“Seems to be the case,” Baekhyun answered, before breaking into another fit of giggles.

“I hate you all,” Luhan sighed, peeling the underwear off of his face and tossing it back out the window.

-

Dusting his hands off, Luhan stood back and inspected his handiwork, utterly pleased. “We did it guys,” he said proudly. “We put the Christmas tree together.”

“It’s leaning to one side,” Sehun pointed out innocently, “And it’s missing most of it branches.” As if on cue, one of the artificial boughs fell from its precarious position to the floor with a loud, obnoxious _whack_.

In truth, the tree did look a little sad. Luhan had an inkling that this was the very same tree that had graced his Christmases since childhood, and had needed replacement for at least half those years. It was a bit of a nostalgia trip, but mostly exasperating: he had serious doubts as to its structural integrity, and it definitely would not last the entire season.

But what the hell? 

“That’s a problem for sure,” Luhan agreed, latching onto the taller boy’s arm and steering him away, “A very pressing problem, as a matter of fact. But you know what? That’s not _our_ problem. Come along Sehunnie; we can leave the decorating to Chanyeol, or Soo, or one of the others.” A pause for dramatic effect. “Yeol _does_ possess the faculties of a demented baboon after all; that sort of stuff is probably right up his alley.”

He led Sehun into the kitchen, where he clambered onto the counter, legs swinging. Luhan hummed as he rifled through the box of pastries- the heavenly smell left him with absolutely no doubt that his mother had paid a little visit to that _marvelous_ bakery on the outskirts of town that made the absolute best egg tarts.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw his cousin seat himself on the stool, looking as uncomfortable as an incontinent baboon on death row. Sehun was still the baby of the family- throughout the day, Luhan had witnessed some childish reactions and adorable pouts- but there was a newfound stoicism that he had not expected. In truth, he had been expecting to deal with a stretched version of the toddler he had once babysat. In perspective, anything was a step up.

“So what have you been up to?” Luhan rubbed the crumbs from his lips with grubby fingers. “You have a job? Have a girlfriend?” He crooked a finger in beckon. “Dazzle me with your scintillating conversation; regale me with stories of your life,” he urged.

He hadn’t really wanted to come back home for Christmas, but now that he was already here, there was no sense in keeping to himself and becoming immeasurably bored. Especially not when Sehun was there, and was a functioning conversationalist.

Rather than opening the dams of communication as he had hoped, his actions only seemed to make the atmosphere more awkward. “Well, I-” Sehun stuttered, stumbling over his words as if they were speed bumps. “No girlfriend, for sure.” Those were the first words to come out, and the noodly boy looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him. The red blush on his cheeks was especially telling.

Scratch the functioning conversationalist then; more like awkward spaghetti noodle. Maybe it hadn’t been stoicism Luhan had observed; perhaps his baby cousin had just gotten shyer over the years. Earlier, with the others, he had seen flashes of the Sehun of old. One on one, he was completely different.

“A handsome boy like you doesn’t have a girlfriend?” Luhan sounded innocently surprised. “I’m surprised girls aren’t clawing down the doors to get to your pale, pasty, unhealthy face.”

The red blush intensified, much to Luhan’s delight. Teasing his baby cousins was way more fun now that he had the self-awareness to recognize the teasing.

“I’m, uh…” the poor boy looked ready to sink into the ground and live out the rest of his life as a blind mole rat. His eyes were anywhere but Luhan’s face, which was rather funny in its own right. “I’m sort of… gay…” he answered.

Luhan scrunched his brow in surprise at this revelation. In all seriousness, it shouldn’t have been that shocking, especially if he took Sehun’s childhood crush on him into consideration, (but that wasn’t something he dwelled on if he could really help it.) It really made a lot of sense, he decided shrewdly as he looked the other up and down.

“Another one of us joins the friends of Dorothy,” Luhan commented happily, taking another bite of the egg tart and reveling in the fluffy sweetness. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd how so many people in our family are gay? Looks like it’s down to Kyungsoo to keep the family name going now.”

Sehun kept his gaze pinned on the floor, probably watching some utterly exciting carpet on carpet action.

Sighing, Luhan scooted closer, dropping his feet onto Sehun’s lap, causing the younger man to jerk up in alarm.

“Why are you so stiff around me?” he scolded. “Loosen up. I know we don’t really know each other that well, but we’re still family.”

The discomfited look on Sehun’s face only became more pronounced with those words. 

-

It was a truth universally accepted (insofar as Luhan’s family was concerned, anyway,) that the holiday season was accompanied by- and _always_ would be accompanied by- three unavoidable things:

1\. Unwrapping presents.

2\. The dulcet tones of Mariah Carey.

3\. Several family reunions where he and his cheeks would have uncomfortable experiences.

Luhan really didn’t have a problem with any of them but the third. His cheeks stinging with all the squishing and abuse, he sulkily relocated to the couch, where he curled up and did his best to avoid any and all interaction. Sure, he was a novelty because he was rarely around for these reunions, but there would be plenty of cuter, more accessible cousins for his aunts and uncles to victimize. He doubted they would single him out.

Besides, it was the first of many. As they approached Christmas day, there would be plenty of time for more interaction.

Overnight, the dilapidated tree had been somehow painstakingly restored, with decadent ornaments and obnoxiously twinkling lights hanging garishly from every branch. Were it that such was the extent of the decoration: stockings hung by the chimney, mistletoe wiggled above doorframes, and even Baekhyun’s mutt Mongryong was costumed as Rudolph. When his family got into the spirit of Christmas, they did not do it by halves.

Luhan was bored. There were only so many times that one could watch Chanyeol and Baekhyun prance around the tree like a pair of possessed kangaroos before becoming utterly and completely bored. He kept his eyes on them of course, for lack of anything else to do, but his form sprawled on the couch was a perfect representation of the ennui he was feeling.

“Maybe one of you cretins could make yourself useful and fetch me a blanket,” Luhan demanded, finally done and over with the monotony. If he was going to be bored out of his mind, he might as well get some sleep out of the deal.

When the littlest cousins finally arrived, he would have to put on a smiling front and brave their annoying-as-fuck energetic selves. The exuberance of youth was something he could only vaguely recall. Life had sucked him up and spit him out; a few years ago, he would have been traipsing up there with the others, dancing the boisterous life of dance.

Now, he was a grumpy old codger trying to sleep through the holidays. He held a momentary mournful vigil for the life he had once led, the person he had once been.

He could feel the couch shifting, deforming from the pressure of weight, as someone sat beside him. From the corner of his eye, Luhan observed awkward cousin Sehun sitting down, one outstretched hands offering a blanket.

Blinking, he took the proffered article. “Thanks,” he said, relieved. Despite the toasty fire burning and the heater running at full capacity, it was still really cold. He wrapped the blanket around himself, and huddled his limbs close together, so as to keep himself entirely covered. 

He had intended to sleep once in possession of a blanket, but it seemed rude to not strike up a conversation. “Having fun?” he inquired stupidly.

The younger man shrugged. “It’s all right,” he answered. “Better than I expected it to be.”

Luhan was sympathetic. “You must be missing your friends right now,” he surmised. He did understand, after a fashion. Once upon a time, he had uprooted himself and moved across half the country, to a place where he knew no one, and no one knew him. Sehun’s situation was temporary and not quite so serious, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t relate to one another. “This country must be very different from what you’re used to.”

Sehun shrugged, but said nothing, his face as unreadable as the silence between them. “It’s not so bad,” he answered vaguely, his tone sulky and unenthusiastic. He kept his eyes straight ahead. Perhaps he’d found something terribly fascinating about the tree- or else he had just been trying to avoid Luhan’s gaze.

Well, that was abominably rude.

Sighing, Luhan gave up and laid his head on the armrest of the couch. It was clear that Sehun didn’t like talking to him- aside from the first day, they had barely had any meaningful interaction. Which was already weird in and of itself, but the fact of the matter was, the two of them were sharing a room, yet Luhan had barely been able to get any more than a few words worth of conversation from him in the past few days. That sort of elevated the situation from ‘weird’ to ‘beyond weird.’ Even when he’d roomed with the less-than-personable cousin Kyungsoo for science camp (why they had been thusly assigned was a mystery to the day,) he’d managed to make some conversation with the other. But Sehun maintained a stubborn near-muteness, and whether it was from a dislike, or simply from standoffishness, Luhan couldn’t really say. 

Maybe it was his fault. He might have scared Sehun off with his probing questions and excessive nosiness. Sighing, he rubbed his temples; if that was indeed the case, then it would be a difficult problem to resolve.

He decided that maybe straightforwardness was the best policy. “Do you not like me or something?” he asked bluntly. It would be better for him to know.

Sehun looked surprised that he’d even asked the question. “No- I mean, I don’t-”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Luhan said, rolling his eyes. “Nobody says we have to get along or anything-”

“That’s really not it,” Sehun blurted, voice more forceful than before. Immediately, his features assumed an awkward, chagrined expression. “I mean… it’s just that… do you remember when I was little?”

Snorting, Luhan nodded. “As if I could forget. I was your favorite cousin, remember?” And _that_ was couching it thoughtfully. Every time Sehun’s family came to visit, his little cousin would latch onto him and follow him around near infinitely. He vaguely remembered it being cute at first, before he lost his patience and began to find it exasperating instead. It was basically his own little custom barnacle.

“I said a lot of really embarrassing things back then,” Sehun continued hurriedly. “Things like… how I was going to marry you and take you back to Korea with me.” He shuddered, as if he could feel the ignominy of his past words catching up to him as he reiterated them. “I cringe whenever I remember. Can’t help it.”

Luhan threw his head back in laughter. “And being around me reminds you of the embarrassing things you used to say?” he guessed teasingly.

And really, the redness on Sehun’s cheeks was as good an answer as anything.

“Don’t worry about it; we all said embarrassing things as kids,” Luhan assured him, trying his best to keep a straight face and hold back laughter. “I’m sure I don’t remember _half_ of the things that you said.”

That got him a sardonic look in response.

“You’re being patronizing now,” Sehun complained, and Luhan laughed.

-

Having a large family tended to have the side effect of bringing a _lot_ of drama to the dinner table.

“It’s so good of you to swing by your hometown once in a while,” Kyungsoo smiled blandly as he cut into his steak (and really, he was so tiny that he looked like an overgrown toddler doing so.) “Must be a big change from the city. Remember the little people, am I right? Connect with your roots and all that.”

Luhan groaned into his wineglass. It was his fifth glass (or was it his sixth?) and it had made him feel pleasantly warm to drink it; it was all ruined now, sadly. “I told you I was sorry,” he protested, correctly guessing the reason behind his cousin’s antagonistic behavior, and unable to believe that Kyungsoo had carried this grudge for so long. “Repeatedly! Throughout the years!”

“Sorry doesn’t fix my hot wheels set.” Wide eyes glared at him, striking the fear of god into his soul with their demonic fire.

In an obvious (but well-meaning) attempt to defuse the tension, Chanyeol’s boyfriend piped up. “So Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun said with a cheery smile, “When’s Jongin coming? He usually puts you in a better mode”

“Kyungsoo is gay?” Luhan’s question was ignored.

That only served to redirect Kyungsoo’s ire. “Why?” he sneered, his normally wide eyes narrowed and vicious. “So you can shamelessly flirt with him? Like you did last time?” He sniffed delicately. “I told him to stay home so that you wouldn’t get the chance.”

Chanyeol looked up from his plate in alarm at that, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk and crumbs dusted around his mouth. He looked at Baekhyun with watery, sad eyes. His boyfriend paled, and began to categorically deny the accusation.

“Soo,” Baekhyun said, a warning note in his voice. “You can imagine whatever you want to, but _don’t_ try to pass your insecurities off as fact.”

Kyungsoo responded with something snarky and snide, but really, Luhan just didn’t care enough to listen in. Shaking his head, he exhaled in exhaustion. This was just another reminder why he always chose to miss these reunions: they were chock full of drama and had dirty laundry up the kazoo. The rest of the table seemed amused if anything; beside him, Sehun was even chuckling to himself as he chewed on his cut.

“You’ve been here a few weeks already, haven’t you?” Luhan asked him. At the answering nod, he continued. “Is it… always like this? Are they always fighting?”

A shrug. “Pretty much.”

Groaning, he hid his face in his arms. “If I’d known, I’d have gone to In-N-Out instead,” he mumbled.

He ducked as a piece of turkey flew past him, landing right smack-dab in the middle of his mother’s prized china set. Apparently, the argument between cousin Kyungsoo and Baekhyun had gotten somewhat heated in few minutes he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I have the right to air my suspicions out if I want to,” Kyungsoo shouted, face red and angry.

Baekhyun was standing behind an upset Chanyeol now, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulders. “Maybe you should keep that between you and your boyfriend,” he spat. Turning back to his own lover, he schooled his face into an apologetic expression. “Soo just doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he assured. “Jongin and I are just friends. _Some people_ just can’t appreciate the distinction.” The short man turned his glare back at Kyungsoo.

“You were touching his ass!” Kyungsoo snarled indignantly. “That’s not ‘friendly.’ That’s flirting.”

“So Luhan,” his mother said, as if there wasn’t an intense food fight commencing around them. “How has life been treating you?”

“Well-”

She barreled onward, not really interested in his life and only seeking to push her own agenda. “Have you met any nice girls recently? No? Well, my friend has this daughter-”

Luhan groaned. “Mom!”

She was utterly unrepentant. “You need to start dating eventually,” she reasoned. “I’m going to need grandchildren. Most of my friends already have bouncing toddlers to spoil.”

A spoonful of mashed potato landed on her head, but it didn’t faze her; she simply took the napkin from the table and wiped it discreetly from her hair.

“Mom,” he said, determined to make it clear this time. He knew that his mother didn’t want to hear it, but he had neither the desire nor the inclination to begin or prolong any farce of straightness. “I’ve told you _so_ many times. I’m gay.”

“Well, sure, but-” She didn’t look convinced.

“GAY, mom,” he pressed, stretching his eyes widely to give his statement more emphasis. “G-A-Y. I like men. I sleep with them. Butt-stuff gay. All the rainbows and confetti gay.”

Chanyeol now seemed to be sobbing incoherently into his plate, while Baekhyun was kneeling before him, whispering soothing, beseeching words. Kyungsoo seemed to be fuming furiously in his chair, some kimchi dangling from his fringe. Sehun just sat and poked at his meal, once again fucking bored.

“I know you think that, honey,” his mother said in a soothing voice. “But maybe you’ll change your mind after you meet Soojung. She’s a very nice girl, very pretty.”

“I don’t just _think_ I’m gay,” he argued. He’d treaded this trail way too many times to tolerate another trek through his mother’s firm denial of his sexuality. “I _know_ I am.”

She raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?” she inquired, evidently seeking a new avenue of attack.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Sensing weakness, his mother grinned. “A lot of people _think_ that they’re gay,” his mother began, and he could already tell where this disaster of a conversation was going to go. “But then, later in life, they realize that it was all a phase! Did I ever tell you about your aunt? She thought she was a lesbian, until one day, she woke up surrounded by her cats-”

He cut her off, unwilling to hear any more. The ignorance pained his soul, it really did. “I’m gay! I’ve _been_ gay my entire life! I was gay last year, gay the year before that, and gay now.”

“Even if you _think_ that, there’s no harm in-”

Beyond frustrated, Luhan spied Sehun out of the corner of his eye and had an idea. It was a terrible idea, in hindsight, but his brain had not been functioning properly at the time, exasperated with his mother as he was (not to mention the wine, can’t forget the wine.)

If he was able to prove his homosexuality to his mother’s satisfaction, then she would _get the fuck off of his case._

In the spur of the moment, emboldened by the adrenaline that accompanied the argument, Luhan reached over, grabbed his cousin, and planted a big fat one on his face.

-

“So you want to tell me what that was about?”

Luhan shook his head miserably, all the while munching voraciously on his burger. Shame had an impact on him, but not his appetite.

Predictably, it had not turned out well at all. What had started as a mere means to an end had quickly escalated into something different; before long the two of them had begun to kiss wildly, in full view of everyone at the dinner table. Mothers, fathers, grandmothers- no one was spared the sight of Sehun and Luhan plunging their tongues into one another’s mouths, reveling in the experience, making lewd and embarrassing noises.

They had been promptly banished then, booted into the yard by his mother, who wore a look of disgust on her face. “I don’t have a problem with you being gay,” she said, “But I _do_ have a problem with the two of you getting it on at the dinner table. Come back when you understand basic human decency.”

And so, here they were: in the lobby of a hotel, munching on to-go fast food dinners. It was not half as delicious as the dinner he had been enjoying before, of course, but… well, food was food.

“Really?” Sehun sounded exasperated. “So you’re _not_ going to tell me why you kissed me out of the blue?”

Well, he had done it to prove a point, but he was hardly going to say _that_. As a matter of fact, a variety of reasons had probably been involved in some way: he had had quite a bit to drink, his mother had been frustrating, the fighting between Kyungsoo and Baekhyun had gotten to him.

“No.” Luhan answered decisively. “I’m not going to, as a matter of fact.” Having said that, he grabbed his soda and drank it furiously. The less the two of them thought about… whatever chemistry that had been between them, the better.

With a frustrated shrug, Sehun stalked off toward the main desk, no doubt to get their key-cards. After their… demonstration, they had little doubt that their presence would not be welcomed. Staying in a hotel room was less than ideal, but as an intermediate step while they figured out what the _everliving fuck_ their next step should be, it would do.

It was difficult to keep his eyes from raking his baby cousin’s form. Ever since the kiss, he had grown greatly aware of the attractiveness of the younger man (consciously, that is. That there had been a subconscious attraction did not need to be said.) His pretty face had always been apparent of course, but ever since Luhan had been pressed against lithe (yet strangely muscular) limbs, he had developed an even greater appreciation for the noodly boy. His bubble but, especially, was a godsend.

And when Sehun bent over the counter to talk with the receptionist, it was all Luhan could do to not spit out a mouthful. This was what the gods on heaven had created the butt for, he thought to himself as he wiped off the remnants of a nosebleed.

There was a moral dilemma somewhere within this whole mess, but Luhan’s mind was in such a state of disarray that even _processing_ the thought was beyond him. And really, maybe it was for the best that the complexities of his mind were out of reach. 

If he ever came back to his senses, maybe he would feel bad about it, or embarrassed looking back.

Unfortunately, it was a blink-and-you-miss-it sort of event, and the image had not been burned into his mind as much as he would like. He watched disappointedly as his cousin walked on back, holding two card keys between his fingers.

“Room 1337,” he announced with a shrug.

-

Sprawling on the bed of the hotel room thankfully offered something akin to relaxation; it was something Luhan sorely needed. It was obvious that he had not been thinking clearly for at least a day, and allowing himself some rest would probably prove beneficial.

He tried not to pay any attention to Sehun, but it was difficult. For the better part of an hour, his younger cousin had been staring at him intensely from his place at the desk. Luhan could feel those eyes burning holes into his skin, boring into his flesh, searing like fire. He resented how it made him feel transparent, as if Sehun could see right through him.

Which was preposterous, because he couldn’t even understand himself at the moment.

“What are you looking at?” Luhan demanded, having decided that he’d had enough. He already had his thoughts making him uncomfortable, he didn’t need Sehun adding to that.

The other man simply shrugged. “You,” he answered succinctly, shamelessly.

Luhan paled at that, but did not let his distress show on his face. “You’re supposed to say ‘nothing.’” He informed dryly. “And then we can pretend that nothing happened. Go back to less awkward times.”

Sehun shrugged again. “Sounds like denial.”

“Sometimes, denial is the only option,” Luhan retorted.

A smirk. “Maybe.”

It was infuriating. All Luhan wanted was to put the whole embarrassing episode behind him and pretend that it had never happened. Perhaps one day they could laugh about it at family reunions, but right now even _remembering_ it sent blood rushing to his face in mortification.

And yet here Sehun was, refusing to allow him to forget. Gritting his teeth, Luhan arranged his face into the best scowl he could manage.

An eyebrow was raised in response. “… cute.”

Groaning, Luhan allowed his face to plop unceremoniously back onto the pillow. He couldn’t possibly fathom _why_ his little cousin just wouldn’t let the incident go…

Or, well, he could. But he liked to pretend he wasn’t so egotistical.

Anyway, faced with this Sehun, Luhan felt that he preferred the nervous, stuttering one. At least that had been cute to a degree; now, the other man just seemed smug. It was a little worrisome actually, how quickly the tides had shifted. Had his cousin always been such a bastard? 

He could feel the bed shift, ostensibly as his cousin sat down beside him. 

“Look,” the voice was confident, but soft. It bore the mark of someone who knew exactly what they wanted and how to get there, but it also was riddled with the bulletholes of anxiety and weariness. “I know that what happened earlier made you uncomfortable. And I know that you’d love to forget it. But I…”

The faltering of the voice caused Luhan to look up sharply. What he saw had him widening his eyes in surprise: Sehun seemed visibly nervous, and there was a pretty blush coloring his face from forehead to neck. It was all really adorable.

“Do go on,” Luhan prompted airily. He had an idea where it was going, and it was going to do _wonders_ for his ego.

That seemed to be the push he needed. With a look of renewed determination, Sehun edged closer and grabbed Luhan’s hands, looking him meaningfully in the eye. “But for me, it was sort of a dream come true,” he explained, the intensity of his eyes belying the cavity-inducing sweetness of the matter at hand. “I-I always liked you as a kid. I still do. Like you that is.”

A handsome man confessing to him? Somebody give him a long, hard pinch, because never in Luhan’s wildest dreams did something like this happen.

“Even if we’re cousins,” Sehun finished.

Oh. Right. There was that little caveat: the incest barrier.

“Sehun,” he said delicately. It would probably be for the best to nip the problem in the bud. “You’re a good looking young man. I’m sure that there are plenty of boys and girls out there-”

He abruptly stopped, affronted by the sight of his cousin’s shoulders shaking in (not-so-silent) laughter. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sehun said between laughs, holding out a hand to preempt Luhan from saying anything. “It’s just- it’s a little cliché. Just give me a few moments, you can let me down easy after.”

Luhan pouted, the wind taken out of his sails. “Well it’s hardly going to be appropriate _now_ ,” he grumbled. Noting the cavalier way that his cousin was acting, he said: “You don’t seem too upset.”

Grinning, the other man leaned in, until Luhan could feel the hot breath puffing on his neck. “Give me a chance,” he spoke into his ear, voice soft and warm. “Let me convince you.”

-

Luhan winced at the cold feeling of the lube against his ass. This was perhaps what he had signed up for when he decided that banging his overgrown (probably) virgin cousin was a good idea; for all his good looks, Sehun was inexperienced. And inexperience came hand in hand with ineptitude- something the giant noodle had also shown an aptitude for.

“Would it have killed you to warm it up for me?” he snarked.

“Uhh…” he could imagine his cousin blinking dumbly, which elicited an eyeroll from him. “Like… in the microwave?”

Another eyeroll. Perhaps he’d be able to see his much famed brains face-to-face soon enough. He could only pray they weren’t nonexistent like Sehun’s.

“Just warm it in your hands,” he said impatiently. “Don’t you _dare_ even consider fucking me with that cold ass lube. Warm being made of flesh here, I ain’t no corpse.”

The sound of furious rubbing started behind him as Sehun attempted to follow his instructions and use friction to generate heat. After a long while, the hand returned to its position against Luhan’s backside, and he was pleased to feel the drippy, wet lube was significantly warmer than it had been before.

He stopped suddenly, hand hovering away from Luhan’s hole.

“I just wanted to clarify something,” he said slowly, as if an epiphany had suddenly struck him. “I know you noticed how standoffish I was being. I mean, _now_ you can probably guess why that is but-”

“That’s great,” Luhan said shortly. “That’s really great. Now will you please get on with it, because I _swear to god…_ ”

Perhaps Sehun was cowed by those words, or maybe he was just going to do it anyway, but to Luhan’s eternal relief, he felt the fingers press against his hole. Their trembling betrayed the nervousness and inexperience of their owner, making Luhan feel a little bad about rushing it along. For all apparent confidence, it turned out that Sehun was all bravado and puffery after all.

Well, it was cute. And endearing.

“Is this your first time?” Luhan had called his cousin an overgrown virgin in his head, but if it was true, he’d definitely let Sehun take a slower pace.

“N-no!” Sehun said, voice determined. 

As if to prove himself, he pressed his cock against Luhan’s hole, rubbing it up and down the crack for good measure. Even though that brought little to no pleasure in and of itself, it still was able to elicit a gasp of anticipation: it stimulated minor nerves and built toward his release each time it slid up and down, slipped against his skin, or prodded at his entrance.

“You stretch me first,” Luhan offered dryly. If he hadn’t had proof of Sehun’s inexperience, he did now.

His cousin colored. “…right.”

A warm hand placed itself against his entrance, the fingers feeling around, searching for entry. Occasionally, Sehun would allow his fingertips to venture slightly deeper, but he seemed to chicken out each time, pulling back with some alacrity.

Eventually, he seemed to gather enough courage to actually _breach_ it. Luhan allowed his eyes to close as he adjusted to the feeling; he hadn’t had sex in quite a while, in all honesty. It felt both strange and familiar all at once, feeling the fingers inside of him

Really, the entire thing was more awkward than sexy. Not that he was complaining. Sex was sex.

“Is it not doing anything for you?” Sehun asked worriedly. He began to move his fingers around, probably searching for the prostate. “You aren’t reacting at all.”

His performance anxiety was rather cute, really. Luhan toyed with the idea of teasing him, but decided against it; he had been negged in the past, and didn’t really want to put anyone else through that sort of hell. Instead, he turned around and gave a sweet, encouraging smile.

Sehun blinked. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” He said, leaning in and giving Luhan a peck on the lips.

When the probing fingers found his prostate, Luhan found himself clenching his hole. To his credit, he did not otherwise react: no flinching, no wincing, no crying out.

“Ah, so that’s where it is,” Sehun noted, relief evident by his tone of voice.

The fingers continued to feel around the area, as if attempting to commit the location to memory. When they finally removed themselves, the empty feeling that remained took Luhan by surprise. He had been expecting it of course, but the imagination- as always- paled in comparison to reality.

Lining his cock against Luhan’s entrance for the second time, Sehun gulped. “Are you ready?” he asked nervously.

“I’ve _been_ ready,” came the muffled reply. “What have you been stalling for?”

Spurred into action, Sehun pressed in. Luhan noted that his cousin was large- much larger than he had expected. Knowing that pain and discomfort preceded the pleasure, he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Already stretched, he felt the member slide in with ease, felt himself wrapping tightly around it.

“Wow…” Sehun mumbled to himself, voice suddenly breathy.

Knowing how overwhelming the first time was, Luhan took pity on his cousin and seized the reins. He squeezed his hole, deriving satisfaction from the awed moans he drew from the other man. When Sehun’s hips rocked forward in retaliation, Luhan had to clench the sheets between his hands in order to maintain composure.

He didn’t like to think of himself as a size queen. Really. But there was just something about a big cock that satisfied him like nothing else. The way it filled him so completely, how it reached within him so deeply. The feeling was so intense that he could barely breath. There was more pain than pleasure, really (Sehun did _not_ know how to use his equipment,) but the sense of accomplishment, the simple knowledge that he had been able to house that monster cock within himself: it was titillating. Through the haze of arousal, he had a distant thought: if it felt _this_ good when Sehun had barely any experience, imagine how it would feel when he had this cousin well and thoroughly trained!

Uh, bad thoughts, bad thoughts. No teaching your cousins sex, he scolded himself.

The pacing of the thrusts sped up, catching him unawares and leaving him breathless. The pain to pleasure ratio was quickly sliding toward the negative, but he knew that once Sehun found that bundle of nerves, it would make an about face change. Deciding to try and speed along this discovery, he angled his hips and pushed back to meet Sehun’s thrusting.

It took a few tries, but eventually he _did_ feel that wave of pleasure rushing through his body. Feeling particularly charitable, he clenched himself around Sehun, extracting a pleasured grunt from the other.

“How does it...feel?” he asked, smirking.

“It feels good,” Sehun answered haltingly between thrusts.

Luhan knew that, while the anticipation was building now, it wouldn’t last much longer. Determined not to cum first, he began to squeeze his entrance around Sehun in a pulsating pattern. Each time he clenched, he would pull forward, causing Sehun to slide out. He counted on friction to do its job, and it did: the stuttering breaths behind him proved that much.

When masturbating, Luhan liked to edge himself. He would work his cock until he was at the edge of an orgasm, then he’d pull back. He found that it allowed for more intense orgasms. In the past, his more experienced partners would do the same for him, alternately slowing and speeding up the thrusts so that he could prolong the buildup period.

But Sehun was practically a virgin and didn’t think about such concepts; he simply thrusted as fast as he could, probably chasing his own release. Not wanting to blow his load just yet, Luhan reached back and placed a hand on his cousin’s stomach to stymy the flow.

“Slow… down,” he rasped. “Edging is a thing in sex too.”

It was too late; he could feel his cousin spasming behind him. Figuring that there was little to no point of holding the tides of his orgasm back anymore, he allowed himself to release also.

Both of them collapsed bonelessly onto the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Luhan glanced at Sehun and smirked; while the sex hadn’t been _mind-blowing_ per se, his cousin’s inexperience _had_ been adorable.

“7/10, should work on technique,” he decided aloud.

Face planted into the soft pillowy blanket, the only objection that Sehun could muster was an exhausted groan.

It was stupidly endearing, Luhan decided. Sidling closer, he pressed a kiss to his cousin’s cheek. “I can’t say you’ve been terribly convincing,” he whispered.

“Hyung…” Sehun protested sleepily.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he assured him. “You can try again tomorrow.”

-


End file.
